


Pas de Deux

by sinkburrito



Series: Amor Carminis [1]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: (i swear!), 5+1, Angst, First Time, Fluff, Happy Ending, Love Confessions, M/M, Memory Loss, Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, Star Trek III: The Search for Spock, Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home, Vulcan Kissing, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-05 15:53:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15866835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinkburrito/pseuds/sinkburrito
Summary: It takes two to dance.(5 times Kirk’s feelings were reciprocated and 1 time they weren’t… or were they?)





	Pas de Deux

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Tchaikovsky's Pas de Deux from the Nutcracker.  
>  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YR5USHu6D6U

~~1~~

 

Jim sets the finishing touches on the chess board and wipes his sweaty palms on his slacks. Spock will be here any minute and Jim’s starting to have second thoughts about this whole thing. Sure, they have dinner and chess often, but tonight is different. Tonight, Jim is going to tell Spock how he feels. Jim’s known of his attraction to Spock for some time now, but last month, something changed. Jim had been used to the leap in his heart whenever Spock quirked his brow, the soft smile that stitched itself onto his face that seemed to be reserved only for Spock, the way he had to suppress the urge to touch and to be touched. It had only been an eyebrow raise, accompanied by a “Spock-smirk,” which was just the faintest upturn of the mouth, and a witty quip. Then, somehow, for some reason, everything slotted into place. Spock wasn’t just some fleeting crush;  Jim was in love with him. Jim had tightened his grip on the captain’s chair and run through every interaction with Spock in his mind at lightning speed. Every memory seemed to affirm the inevitable: Jim was in love with Spock. 

 

And so it was that Jim found himself preparing for the occasion on which he could make his feelings known. He spent weeks of his off-time programming specific Vulcan meals into the replicator, subtly asking Spock what he liked to do in his free time, and came to the conclusion that dinner and chess would work. Jim is sweating already, especially because he turned the thermostat up so Spock would be comfortable. The buzzer sounds and Jim runs one last self-conscious hand through his hair. 

 

“Come in,” he calls, wiping his hands on his pants again. Damn things won’t stop sweating. 

 

“Captain,” Spock acknowledges him.

 

“Jim,” Jim corrects absentmindedly. They’ve had this conversation many times over; so many that correcting Spock is a reflex. He sends a wide but shaky smile Spock’s way and gestures to the table. “Shall we begin?”

 

Spock is strangely reticent during their meal. That isn’t to say that he’s usually talkative, but Jim can oftentimes get him to open up at least a little. Today, it feels like speaking to a brick wall. Halfway through their first chess game, Spock opens his mouth to speak, then closes it. Jim moves his piece. Spock seems to steel himself.

 

“Captain-”

 

“Jim.”

 

“Jim, have I done something to offend you?” Spock asks. 

 

Jim raises his eyes from the board in surprise. “What makes you think that?”   
  
“Over the past 1.16 months, you have reduced contact with me by 29%. Furthermore, you have exhibited signs of nervousness and fear, as you are now. I ask you again, what have I done to offend you?” Spock diagnoses, face passive, but with traces of worry etched into the brow. 

 

Jim runs his hand over his face. “Spock, it’s- I don’t- Spock, you did nothing wrong,” he stumbles. At Spock’s inquisitive eyebrow raise, he exhales a sigh. “Alright. You- I have something I want to say to you.”

 

“Please do,” Spock says lowly.

 

“Look, I- I met you 3 years ago-”

 

“3.87.”

 

“Yes, I met you 3.87 years ago, and ever since you’ve been amazing me, Spock. And you know- you know I value your friendship, right? You know you’re the best goddamn thing that ever happened to me, you and Bones. Nothing can ever change that, right?”

 

“Affirmative, Captain.”

 

“Jim, it’s Jim! Spock, it’s Jim. I don’t want you calling me ‘Captain’ when I’m trying to- when I’m-”

 

“Jim?”   
  
Jim sighs in frustration and runs his hands through his hair. “I don’t know why it’s so hard for me to say this.” He opens his mouth, wills the words to come out, forces them out. “Spock, what I’m trying to say, what I really mean, is-”  He pulls the words out through his ribcage, the tendrils binding his heart together. “I love you. I’m in love with you, I mean. And not as a friend- well, I do love you as a friend, but I also love you as more than that. Spock, I-” He chuckles nervously as Spock rises from his seat. “Spock? I-I’m waiting on a response here.”

 

Jim realizes what’s happening when Spock’s hand slides around the nape of his neck and Jim instinctively leans into it. 

 

“Ashayam,” Spock breathes, closing his eyes and kissing Jim with all the desperation and passion of a dying man. Jim tilts his head back and revels in the feeling of finally kissing those lips he had been staring at for months. His hands slide up Spock’s waist and he pulls the Vulcan into his lap. All he wants is to feel more of the slim body against his, the silky black hair through his fingers. It takes him a moment to realize that not all of the firecracker feelings rushing through him aren’t only his; Spock’s mental shields have slipped and at every point their skin meets, static shocks of excitement and joy burst, filling their veins. 

 

“Jim, I cherish thee,” Spock says devoutly, sliding his fingertips across Jim’s neck. Jim hides his smile in Spock’s shoulder, grinning stupidly and wider than ever before. 

 

~~2~~

 

Jim and Spock are anything but loud. When they’re on the bridge, it’s business, and nothing but business. The hours they save for themselves are the quiet ones in Jim’s quarters, the empty observation deck, and evenings in with Bones. Jim respects that Spock isn’t one to show emotion in public, much less affection, and it doesn’t bother him. He knows exactly who he fell in love with and he knows that he’s never going to have someone to fawn over him in public. That’s okay; that’s not what he wants. He’s not going to push for more.

 

Or, at least, he thinks that’s what it’s like. Jim is on the bridge when Spock brings him his report and Jim absentmindedly holds up two fingers for a kiss. It’s something they do often in the safety of their quarters when they work on paperwork together, something that’s become habit for Jim. So it is with bewilderment that Jim regards Spock when Spock nonchalantly touches their fingertips together with a fond “T’hy’la.”

 

Jim has a euphoric beam on his face for the rest of the shift, not unnoticed by the rest of the crew. They take their opportunity to ask him for things and slack off a bit. Jim doesn’t mind; Spock kissed him on the bridge.

 

~~3~~

 

Jim knows that a Vulcan kiss on the bridge doesn’t mean that suddenly Spock will do away with all of his emotional barriers. He knows that it doesn’t matter. This is perfect, for him. He still marvels at the sight when he wakes up every morning. He’s the only one who gets to see Spock’s hair ruffled, his eyes creaking open with sleep. Jim is the only one who gets to pull him close in the mornings and bury his face in Spock’s chest, soaking up the warmth. 

 

“Good morning,” Jim mumbles into Spock’s chest. He grins in delight when he feels Spock’s gravelly voice reverberate around his chest.

 

“Good morning, ashayam.” Spock says softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of Jim’s head. Jim sends a trill of delight and affection through their fledgeling bond. This is still a bit new for them. They have yet to visit Vulcan for a formal bond, or even discuss it. They’re in no hurry. They still have a year left in the five year mission, after all. Jim already knows he wants to marry Spock once they’re done. It excites him and terrifies him at the same time, yet he knows that whatever he does, Spock’s steady presence at his side will never fade. They are  _ t’hy’la _ . 

“I love you,” Jim says against Spock’s chest. He reaches his hand up to twine it with Spock’s. Jim doesn’t expect him to say it back. It’s just not what Spock does. He shows his love in other ways, in the fleeting brush of fingers and the almost-smiles reserved just for Jim and the concern tinting his voice when Jim goes on away missions. 

 

“And I love thee, ashayam.” Spock says quietly, so quietly that Jim thinks he imagines it for a second. The phrase touches Jim to his core and he makes sure to send waves of love through their bond. 

 

“My father never tells my mother he loves her,” Spock continues. “I am sure that she knows, as I am sure that you know. However, I wish to reinforce that knowledge.” 

 

Jim scoots up the bed and pulls Spock into a morning kiss, forceful enough that he knows just how grateful Jim is for his words. “You’re amazing, you know that?” Jim asks breathlessly. Spock’s lips quirk upwards beneath Jim’s. 

 

“I am aware.”

 

~~4~~

 

Jim wipes his sweaty palms on his pants, again, except this time he’s wearing the most expensive suit he’s probably ever worn in his life and he can’t afford to mess it up. He resists the urge to tug at his bowtie and instead drums his fingers against his legs. 

 

“Calm down, man,” Bones hisses at him from beside him. Jim stops the fidgeting, only to restart it again a few seconds later. 

 

“Bones, how can I calm down?” Jim whines in a whisper. “It’s my wedding day.”

 

“And you’re the luckiest man alive and all of that. Lord knows what I’ll have to put up with the rest of my life with my two best friends getting married, and to each other at that.” Bones complains.

 

Jim opens his mouth to make a snarky retort but the words die in his mouth as two figures round the corner. Amanda looks resplendent in her shimmery violet gown, but Jim barely processes her as his eyes cling to Spock. It’s everything and more that he’s ever imagined in a wedding… or in a groom. Spock’s gleaming black hair reflects the seraphic halo above his head. There is not a single speck of dust on his pristine tuxedo jacket and Jim drinks in his tall form, the marble-carved face, the warm brown eyes that Jim loves so much. 

 

Jim can’t take his eyes off Spock as Spock takes his place across from Jim and the rabbi begins to speak. When it’s time to say, “I do,” Jim goes first, a nervous but excited smile on his face.

 

“I do.”

 

Spock, always steady and calm, always Jim’s oasis, answers steadfastly. “I do.” Jim feels so happy he could die.

 

~~5~~

 

Jim feels so broken he could die. He scrabbles at the glass uselessly, pain erupting out of every fiber of his body.

 

“Jim,” Spock chokes out and Jim feels as if Spock has taken a knife and carved out his beating heart. “The needs of the many… Outweigh…”

 

“The needs of the few,” Jim continues, feeling it like a lance in his chest.

 

“Or the one,” Spock finishes. Jim mouths his name soundlessly, helplessly reaching out, only to be stopped by glass. 

 

“Spock,” Jim says like a prayer, like a plea. It’s all he can say, all he can think. “Spock, I-” His voice trembles and breaks. “I love you,” he says, as if it can cure the radiation poisoning. 

 

“Jim,” Spock rasps, “I have been… and always shall be… yours.” He presses trembling fingers to the glass. Jim longs to kiss him, longs to feel their fingers, yet all he can feel is the cold, hard glass. Jim mirrors him, regardless. “Live long and prosper.” 

 

Jim could scream with frustration. Of all the last words to say, why did he have to pick the ones… the ones that were so infuriatingly, so fittingly, so utterly  _ Spock _ ?

 

Spock crumbles against the wall, his composed facade failing. 

 

“No…” Jim pleads as their mind link flickers and fades. He falls against the glass, completely wrecked.

 

“Jim…” Bones says, voice breaking. Jim cries out in his mind, looking for the golden bond, now broken. Jim screams, the loss crashing down on him, propelling him into a dark chasm surrounded by emptiness. 

 

~~+1~~

 

“Captain,” Spock says evenly as Jim walks onto the bridge. 

 

Jim ignores the pain it sends through him.

 

“Jim,” he reminds Spock softly. “You used to call me Jim, Spock. Remember?”

 

“I do not,” Spock answers in that even tone which used to bring Jim peace. Now, it only makes him uneasy, unsure, and hopelessly lost. Jim swallows his heart back down from his throat.

“Nevermind,” he mutters. “Mr. Sulu, get us airborne.”

 

“Aye, Captain,” Sulu says.

 

Jim keeps his pain on the backburner throughout their adventure with the whales, until they’re in San Francisco Bay and they’re in the water, and Spock is  _ smiling _ , at  _ him _ , and all of his carefully stitched back together heart unravels again. 

 

“Jim,” Spock says over the crash of the waves. “I- I remember something.”

 

Jim’s heart leaps wildly in his chest.

 

“I remember the first time you told me you loved me,” he continues, “It was over a game of chess and you didn’t know what I was going to say.”

 

“And you leaned down and kissed me,” Jim finishes. Hope dances in his chest like a spinning ball of fire and he can’t bring himself to douse it. The thunder crackles overhead, but the clouds begin to part and the sunlight shines through, lighting up Spock’s hair like it did on their wedding day and Jim can’t help himself when he surges forward and gives Spock a watery kiss. The relief when Spock returns the kiss seeps into his bones like the seawater. They have to break apart quickly so they won’t drown, but Jim feels a thousand pounds lighter. He sees the whales blow air through their spouts and laughs and waves, pure lightning joy dancing through his veins. 

 

“Ashayam,” Spock says, and Jim turns to see that Spock hasn’t taken his eyes off of him. “T’hy’la. Beloved. Fragments come back to me, but one constant remains.”   
  


“Which is?” Jim brings himself to ask.

 

“That I always have, and ever shall, love you,” Spock says solemnly and Jim could cry in relief. 

  
“Then you know that I love you as well,” Jim says. The waves lap at them both, calm now. 

 

“I may wish you to occasionally… reinforce that knowledge,” Spock says. 

 

Jim’s answering smile is enough to send the clouds away and pull the sun out of its hiding place. 

 

“I believe it takes two to dance, Mr. Spock,” Jim answers.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> you know its Sad Bitch Hours when i get into the tchaik again ugh and its not even the Gay Symphony™


End file.
